Images, creatures and a flash of fire

She watched, without expression, the path of her destruction in a flash of fire as it hurtled across the sky. She got into her nondescript car and followed its progress. Only when it disappeared did she let out a satisfied, high-pitched shriek and thought back to where it all started. 

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It all began eleven years ago, when she was just thirteen. She woke up in what looked like an abandoned warehouse with absolutely no recollection of the past or of how she got there. Her mind was empty, devoid of all meaning when a single image flooded her mind; a strange man running away from the very same warehouse. She was immediately overwhelmed by a rage, a thirst for revenge burning across her veins that she could not explain. As she attempted to figure out how she had ended up there, a series of seemingly unconnected images appeared out of nowhere in her mind. Suddenly, she was surrounded by phantasmagorical creatures that danced around her and beckoned to her in a friendly manner, but when she looked closely, they shocked her. Each creature brought back a particular image more forcefully to her mind; a man and a woman smiling tearfully and then looking back at something in fear, an abandoned shack in the middle of a forest, a flash of fire across the sky, a drive to what looked like this warehouse, a mirthless laugh in the dark, and the most forceful image of all: a wizened old lady. As she watched the phantasmagorical creatures, the tempo of their dance increased until they finally seemed to devour her and she fell unconscious.

When she awoke again, she was in an orphanage, where she then grew up. She still had no idea about her past; even the images and creatures from the warehouse were wiped clean from her mind. She was always different from other children; she kept to herself and followed all the rules and regulations. She was deeply mistrustful of the orphanage counsellor, Fernando, who often asked her probing questions about her past. For some inexplicable reason, he made her feel a desire for revenge, a corrosive hatred. 

When she was old enough, she left the orphanage and moved into a cottage by the woods. She often took walks in the forest to clear her head and one day, preoccupied, she ventured deeper than usual. She came across a shack in a clearing and saw a wizened old lady standing outside it. As she went closer, the lady placed her palm on her nape and said, "Find him. Find him and I will tell you how to kill him." The images flashed across her mind again and she recognized the man running away from the warehouse. Fernando. The phantasmagorical creatures came back and this time, they danced in a particular order such that the images fell into a sequence and she remembered everything. 

She had had a happy childhood, living with her parents. One day, her father had unwittingly witnessed Fernando commit a murder. He had chased after her family to silence them, taken them to the warehouse and killed her parents. He had then struck her on the head and left her for dead. When she was brought into his orphanage, he kept a close watch on her, letting her live only because she did not remember anything.

When she looked up, the shack, the lady and the creatures had disappeared. All she was left with was the familiar thirst for revenge, now with a reason. 

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As she sped away in her nondescript car, she finally felt at peace. 

And Fernando?

Oh, he had just been blasted to smithereens across the sky.

The MTC bus saga

For those of you who do not know, MTC stands for Metropolitan Transport Corporation (Chennai) and an MTC bus is the local bus. If you've ever travelled in a bus in Chennai, you'll know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, can you please lend me some of your luck?

To travel in an MTC bus is to discover wonderful new things about yourself. For instance, you would never have imagined the extent of your body's flexibility, as will be seen when you curve around a pole and the bus takes a sharp turn. And who needs expensive ballet lessons? One bus ride is all it takes to have you pirouetting like a prima ballerina. You also learn precision, balance and some bizarre yogasanas which would leave even Baba Ramdev astounded. In fact, NASA would probably recruit you and send you to space without putting you through a zero gravity test. Oh, and your math is considerably improved, especially since the conductor will literally breathe down your neck until you give him the exact change. (Except on that one 5B. Lady conductor, she will only give you a look that will chill your bones.)

For those first time bus travellers and amateurs, here are some tips:

1. Screw your decency, chivalry and politeness. These will be thrown out of the door, along with you. 

2. If you spot a vacant seat, make a mad dash towards it. It doesn't matter how many people you knock out of the way. In fact, the more, the better.

3. When we say "empty bus", we do not mean a bus with empty seats. An empty bus is a bus with enough room for you to stand on one leg.

4. Waiting for an AC bus is an exercise in futility. AC buses only come right after you've already gotten into a cantankerous and excessively smelly dabba that is trying to pass itself off as a non-deluxe bus.

5. Do not be fooled by the term "deluxe bus." That just means better poles and a floor that reminds you of the spray painting you did in Paint in 2nd std.

6. If you manage to get hold of a pole, DO NOT let it go until you've reached your stop. Wrap yourself around it, it is your only lifeline.

7. Do not attempt to text or listen to music when you're travelling "in standing." Only seasoned professionals can do that. You will learn with time.

8. Don't wear white shoes or any kind of pretty footwear.

Here's a guide to the kind of people you're likely to meet:

• Annoying aunties:  

These come a dime a dozen and are most often, forgive me for the offensive stereotype, err... Generously proportioned (euphemism-ing and all). They will not hesitate to bulldoze you out of their way and their eagle eyes can spot a vacant seat five minutes before it is vacated. They will come with a hop, skip and a jump (which is a bigger deal on a moving bus) and  take that seat regardless of the fact that you are already half into it. These aunties are also pole thieves, they will have you uncurled from your pole faster than you can say "ENNA PANREENGA!" A fight with one of these aunties over who gets to grab more of the pole is a plight I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. One of them is fairly okay to handle but if you and three or four of them are fighting for the same pole, may God have mercy on you.

• Annoying uncles:

The male version of this is even more unbearable. Though they will not try to steal your pole from you, they will definitely make you more uncomfortable. These uncles think it is perfectly okay, a shining demonstration of social etiquette even, to sneeze into your face or poke around your bag. They will judge you for the kind of clothes you wear and peek into your phone. If they're drunk, they will cause a ruckus that will make you wish that you had walked those 6 km. 

• The perverts:

These assho.....um, idiots are ubiquitous with their lewd comments, leering gazes and cheap playboy tee-shirts. They will try to "innocently" grab on to you and blame it on physics, irrespective of the fact that the bus is just standing at a signal and that you are at the other end of the bus. You need to be extremely careful when handling these people, they can actually misconstrue a painful elbow jab to be an invitation. Here is where the next category comes in handy.

• The helpful aunty:

Finding a helpful aunty in a bus is like Sania Mirza serving an ace. She will keep a motherly eye on you and shield you from the perverts. She will also point you to a vacant seat and ensure that you sit and then smile very nicely when you get down.

• The inquisitive ones:

These uncles and aunties have no limitations whatsoever; why let the fact that you are openly uncomfortable stop them from grilling you? "Endha college ma?", "Engineering illaya? AYYO!", "Jernalissum aa? Apdina?", "Boyfriend irruko?" etc. etc.

• The man with all the money:

A happy conductor is a myth. Unless you meet that really nice conductor on that Besant Nagar 29C. But he is the only one, I swear. Try handing a hundred rupee note to one. You won't need a "Learn Tamil in 30 days" book, you'll learn enough in 30 seconds. Of course, your vocabulary will consist only of words you can never use in polite company. Conductors will behave like they nurse some kind of a personal vendetta against you, especially if you are a college student with a bus pass. And sitting in your seat, waiting for him to come to you? Oh you poor, naive thing.

By the time you finally get off the bus, you will feel like you've been in one of those super-fast roller coasters that have about a million loops. You will smell like all the people on the bus (combined) and be covered with sweat from top to toe; bathing twenty times will not help. Here's an advertising tip for soap manufacturers, try using the tag line "Gets the bus off you" and see how quick they sell. 

But I may have exaggerated a littil bit. Heheh.